


All Of Our Tomorrows

by controlofwhatido



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/controlofwhatido/pseuds/controlofwhatido
Summary: Chris decides to move to Los Angeles instead of going to college and finds a roommate online that he's never met. It's the most impulsive (and maybe dumbest) decision he's ever made.





	All Of Our Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [froggydarren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Jen! This veered a bit from your original prompt, but I hope you still enjoy! :)

Chris arrives first -- he’s not surprised, he left Clovis immediately after breakfast with excuses of wanting to beat traffic (there is no “beating traffic” in Los Angeles) but he really just couldn’t take his mom and Hannah’s sad faces any longer. Thankfully he’d already been mailed the keys after he (well, his parents) paid his half of the deposit and first month’s rent so he isn’t just awkwardly standing on the sidewalk waiting for the landlord. 

Most of his belongings are in the trunk of his car -- he’ll get them later, once he checks out the apartment he’s only seen pictures of online. It was a risky move, deciding to move to LA instead of going to college. It was even riskier (and freaked the hell out of his mom) to find a roommate online he’s never met, just talked to on the phone and texted a few times, and to sign a lease on an apartment he never got a chance to actually see. 

He hopes he’s not about to be murdered or live in a rat-infested hell hole. Or be murdered in a rat-infested hell hole. That would be tragic. 

Chris breathes a sigh of relief when he enters the apartment -- so far it looks exactly like the pictures in his e-mail. It comes with a few pieces of furniture but the rest will be up to him and his roommate, Darren, who probably won’t arrive for at least an hour, still. Darren has a longer drive than Chris had, and he’ll have his parents in tow with a truck since unlike Chris, Darren has some furniture to contribute. 

It’s a very small two bedroom apartment -- the kitchen doesn’t even have room for a table, so they had already decided they’d both be okay with eating on the couch (once they buy one since Darren was unable to convince his parents to give him one of theirs). One of the bedrooms had included a twin sized bed with a new mattress, which Chris was thankfully able to claim after Darren offered to bring his own. Chris would’ve survived on an air mattress if necessary to avoid moving his childhood bed and needing his parent’s help driving it down. 

He’s less anxious than he thought he’d be. Maybe it’s because he’s finally out of Clovis -- even though he’s basically flying by the seat of his pants and only has so much money to live on (thanks to a couple part-time jobs in high school and a gift from his parents). He’ll have to follow up on all of the online applications he’s already submitted for jobs in the area, but that can wait until tomorrow. 

After sending a text to his mom that he made it okay and reassuring her that he isn’t moving into a crackhouse, he starts unloading his car. He’ll hang up most of his clothes in his closet but things like his socks and underwear will just have to stay in a suitcase until he’s able to pick up a small dresser. The few books he brought can just be stacked against the wall in his bedroom. He certainly didn’t move to L.A. to live the high life, that’s for sure. He just wants more available opportunities as a writer (and possibly an actor) than what Clovis could provide. 

Just as he’s about to drag his two largest suitcases inside, his phone chimes with a text. 

**From Darren:** Traffic fucking sucks, dude! Had to stop somewhere so I could piss, hopefully we’ll be there in about an hour or so! 

Two things Chris has learned about Darren in the short time since they met online, Darren is very chatty and likes to swear. A _lot_. Chris really isn’t used to texting much -- he hasn’t done a good job with keeping up with anyone from high school (not that he had many friends, anyway). Most of his text log is usually his mom asking what he wants from the grocery store. Now, it’s Darren. 

**From Chris:** I’m here. It’s not a dump. Thankfully it looks exactly like the pictures we were sent. 

**From Darren:** Sweet! My mom can finally get off my back about roaches. See you soon!

_Now_ the nerves hit. He’s talked to Darren enough to be fairly sure he’s not a serial killer. Darren even introduced himself as a hippy musician from San Francisco -- and he always sounds so _happy_. Happy musicians don’t tend to commit murder, Chris hopes. 

Darren ends up taking longer than an hour… traffic _does_ fucking suck, so that gives Chris a little more time to empty out his car and try not to think about how this might be his last day on earth. His mom will kill him if he gets murdered by his new roommate. 

When Darren and his parents do pull up, it’s a bit chaotic trying to find room to park both of their vehicles. Chris ends up offering to move his car down the block to make room for the truck that Darren’s dad is driving. As Chris walks back to the apartment, he has to ignore the fact that Darren is… _hot_. He has a picture of Darren on his phone (so Darren could prove that he wasn’t a 50 year old creep), but that picture definitely didn’t do him any justice. Darren is gorgeous... with his soft-looking curls, the scruff on his face, and the blinding smile he gives Chris once he hops out of his car. 

“Dude! Hey! See, mom? Does he look like he’d murder me in my sleep?” Darren asks the petite woman who just stepped out of the passenger side of the truck, gesturing up and down at Chris. “No offense, Chris. But you don’t look like a murderer.” 

Chris barks out a laugh and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. My mom was worried about the same thing. Hi, I’m Chris,” he says, reaching out to shake Darren’s mom’s hand. He’s always had a knack for being able to charm adults. All the lunch ladies at school loved him. 

“I’m Cerina and this is my husband, Bill,” she says, pointing at the gentleman getting out of the driver’s seat. “I promise we won’t hover too much, just enough to unload the car and maybe take you boys for lunch.” 

The Criss family, Chris learns, are… a bit much. Darren’s parents continue to fuss over Darren while they unload both vehicles, swearing that they’re only a few hours away if he needs anything. Chris watches on with amusement at Darren’s obvious discomfort, but also with a slight pang of jealousy. If his own parents had insisted on coming (they had tried, Chris immediately shot them down), all they’d be doing is finding things to complain about. 

They are _really_ going to need to hit some thrift stores and maybe IKEA in the next few days, because while Darren brought a few things with him, most of their apartment is still bare. Which is a feat, considering how small it is. Thankfully it seems both of their parents have chipped in to help with that (Chris has a prepaid Visa in his wallet with strict instructions to only use it for things he _needs_ ). Darren has already landed a job, but he doesn’t start for another week, so they’ll need to stretch what they have as far as possible while neither of them have an income. 

Chris genuinely likes Darren’s parents. Just in the couple of hours he spends with them, through unpacking and lunch, his anxiety lessens because they’re just so nice. Darren, too, of course. Except Chris tries to not focus on Darren too much throughout the afternoon because Darren is even better looking with a sheen of sweat across his forehead. 

“So, this isn’t so bad,” Darren says, sitting on the floor against the wall with his legs crossed once he’s hugged his parents goodbye. He looks around their living room and shrugs. “It shouldn’t take much to get some seating in here.” 

“And some groceries in the fridge,” Chris says from where he’s laying on the hardwood floor, staring at the ceiling. “We’re worse than broke college students -- we don’t even have ramen right now.” 

Darren’s parents had offered to take them grocery shopping after lunch, but Darren declined and told them to hit the road since they had a long drive back. “I’m a terrible cook,” Darren admits, giving Chris a small shrug once Chris glances his way. “But I can make a mean frozen pizza.” 

“My mom taught me a few things,” Chris says, already planning a list of stuff they’ll need to at least get them through the first few days. “I can follow a recipe, at least, and I’ve been told I can bake pretty decently.”

“Score!” Darren says, eyes lighting up. “Fuck food, we can just have cookies and cake for dinner.” 

Chris laughs and shakes his head. “I think your _mother_ would murder me if I did that. I’m pretty sure there’s a grocery store a few blocks away, we need to at least go pick up the essentials. If I don’t have Diet Coke in the fridge, I’m not pleasant to live with.” 

It’s clear that neither of them have ever really done much grocery shopping, once they get to the store. Even though Darren is a couple years older than Chris, he stayed at home after high school and went to community college. Chris vaguely knows what he’ll need to make a few basic meals plus have food for breakfast and lunch. He resists the urge to call his mom because if she knew he was struggling already, that would just give her yet another excuse to tell Chris how bad of an idea this move was. 

While Darren is off scouring the aisles for what he wants, Chris does a quick search on his phone for what ingredients he’ll need for a few easy recipes. Living off frozen pizza and ramen doesn’t sound quite ideal and Chris was able to take a few pots and pans from his mom so he’s going to try his best to make something edible. 

They meet up again as Chris is putting a half gallon of milk in his cart. “Dude, groceries are fucking _expensive_ ,” Darren says, frowning at the few things he’s picked out already. “I don’t think I’ve ever paid attention to the prices before.” 

Chris has come to that realization, too. He’s going to have to forgo some of his guilty pleasure snacks until he finds a job. The money he’s saved from working part-time at home and the card his parents gave him will only stretch so far. “Me neither,” he says, making his way toward the meat section. 

Darren follows behind and glances over when Chris stops in front of the packages of chicken. “How about we split the dinner stuff? We’ll both be eating it, doesn’t seem fair that one of us buys everything. I’ll even figure out how to cook something, too.” 

They both end up spending about the same and Chris realizes that you can learn a lot about someone from their groceries. Darren opts for tea and orange juice instead of soda like Chris, which makes Chris feel _young_. It also surprises Chris that Darren didn’t buy any junk food, his bags filled with healthy cereal and vegetables and rice for dinners. 

It’s… awkward, when they get back to the apartment. They don’t know each other well enough to just have easy, meaningless conversation after all the food is put away. The adrenaline of the day has worn off and Chris just feels like he needs to be alone for a while. He grabs his laptop bag, claiming he’d like a nap, and heads to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He hasn’t put his sheets on the bed yet, but it turns out he _is_ really tired so he falls asleep with just his pillow on the bare mattress.

*

They fall into a surprisingly easy routine over the next few days. It turns out that Darren prefers to shower before bed while Chris can’t start his day without showering so there’s little to no fighting for bathroom time. Chris discovers that Darren sings… a lot. It’s not a problem, because Darren has a fantastic voice, and half the time Darren doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. 

Except it _is_ a problem -- it makes Darren all that much more attractive and Chris _really_ can’t crush on a straight guy, especially when said straight guy is his roommate for the next six months, at least. There’s also the fact that Chris is barely out to himself, let alone anyone else. He hasn’t told Darren yet -- he should’ve, in the first e-mail or two they sent back and forth about being potential roommates, but he’s never even said _I’m gay_ out loud. The last thing he wants to do is find out he’s stuck living with a homophobe. Darren seems to be a pretty carefree guy, but as Chris easily discovered during high school, not everyone is okay with homosexuality. 

Chris is able to call and set up a couple of job interviews while he’s out shopping for furniture with Darren. Thankfully, right now, they both have the same tastes -- cheap. They find a coffee table and a nightstand with drawers for Chris at the first thrift store they stop at. 

“Well, at least you can put your condoms in there without your mom finding them,” Darren says casually while they wiggle the coffee table into the back seat of Darren’s car. Thankfully it’s small enough to just fit. 

Chris almost trips over his feet after his brain finally registers what Darren said. “Wh -- what? I don’t -- I mean, I never -- I don’t even have --,” he manages, suddenly feeling like he’s sweating all over. 

Darren seems oblivious to Chris’s sudden embarrassment and gets into the driver’s seat. “I mean, my mom is cool and all… but I sure got an ear full when she found an opened box when I was in high school.” 

Chris can’t even _imagine_. He’s obviously never had a boyfriend but if he did, he’d definitely die of humiliation if his mom or dad (or, god forbid, Hannah) found _condoms_ in his room. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to regain his composure before sitting in the passenger seat. “There won’t be any need to have… those,” he chokes out, pointedly not looking at Darren, “in my room.” 

“Fuck, I keep forgetting you’re only eighteen! No biggie if you haven’t had sex yet, plenty of people haven’t at your age,” Darren says with a shrug. “But we’re in Los Angeles! You’re pretty cute, I’m sure you’d have no problem finding a girl… or a guy? The possibilities are endless in this city.” 

Suddenly Chris is fairly sure the earth is just going to swallow him up. His face flares hot and he feels tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He can’t even wrap his mind around the fact that Darren just called him _pretty cute_ , all he can focus on is it’s clearly evident to Darren that he’s gay. And a virgin. “That obvious, huh?” he asks, daring a glance at Darren, who looks stricken. 

“Oh shit, are you… not out? Not gay? Do I need to just remove my foot from my mouth and drive us back home so I can hide out in my room?” Darren asks, discomfort clear on his face. He looks like he’s about to reach out toward Chris, but aborts the movement before his hand even crosses the gearshift. 

There’s clearly a frog in Chris’s throat, or a fire breathing dragon, because it takes him a couple attempts to actually get any words out. “No I -- uh,” he says, clearing his throat again and he rolls his eyes at himself… this shouldn’t be this hard, but it is. “I am gay,” he chokes out, hating that his eyes are still filling with tears. “I’ve never said that out loud before,” he whispers, tears finally spilling over. 

Darren makes a sympathetic noise and successfully reaches out for Chris, his hand resting on Chris’s forearm. “Dude, I am so…,” he says, giving Chris’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, I’m a jackass. That’s something you’ll have to learn about me -- I tend not to think before I speak every so often.” 

“You’re not… mad I didn’t tell you and now you’re forced to live with a gay guy?” Chris asks with a sniff, eyes focusing on where Darren’s hand is still touching him. 

“Fuck, of course not,” Darren says, giving Chris’s arm another squeeze before pulling away and finally starting the car. “That would be extremely fucking hypocritical of me, considering I’ve been attracted to both girls and guys.” 

_That_ is the _last_ thing Chris was expecting to hear -- and Darren said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. It’s clear Darren had a very different life growing up in San Francisco than Chris did in Clovis. “Wow, okay,” Chris says dumbly. He feels completely thrown for a loop and doesn’t know how to coherently respond, so he just changes the subject. “How about we get some Chinese delivered for dinner tonight?” 

Darren quickly looks over to Chris while navigating traffic back to their apartment and shrugs. “Sounds good to me, man. I’ll pay, to make up for being such a jerkwad.” 

*

Thankfully, Chris lands a job after a few more days of making follow-up calls on his applications. A bookstore a couple bus stops away needed help (he’s learned really quickly that parking is outrageous and it’s not possible to drive everywhere) and while it isn’t acting or writing, at least Chris will be dealing with something he enjoys. When Chris shares the news with Darren after Darren comes home from work that afternoon, he gets wrapped up in a big congratulatory hug. 

“Chris, that’s awesome!” Darren exclaims, giving Chris another enthusiastic squeeze before stepping back and clapping his hands together. “We should find a bar and celebrate!” 

Chris arches an eyebrow. “And how do you suppose we’ll do that, seeing is I’m still eighteen?” 

“Shit -- I keep forgetting, dammit… you just act _way_ more mature than I ever did when I was eighteen,” Darren says with a chuckle. “Well, we still should drink to your new job. What do you say to our own little celebration here at home? I’ll run to the store and pick something up.” 

Chris’s only experience with alcohol is the sip of wine his mom let him try last Christmas, and it wasn’t that great. He’s heard beer tastes like piss so he’s not too keen on wasting time and money on that. “I don’t… really know what I’d like,” he says, shrugging. “Didn’t exactly spend my high school years partying it up, as they say.” 

“I didn’t either, at least not very often. My mom would’ve killed me if she found out, but my brother was a bad influence on me,” Darren says, giving Chris a sheepish grin. “But I bet I can think of something you’ll like, do you trust me?” 

They haven’t even been living together for two weeks, so of course Chris doesn’t completely trust Darren yet (there aren’t many people in Chris’s life that get that honor, actually), but there’s enough there that Chris can nod while anticipation clenches in his belly. “Should I put a pizza in the oven while you’re gone?” 

“Normally I’d say fuck it and suggest we order one, but neither of us have gotten a paycheck yet and we did just order that Chinese the other night, so I guess I’ll be a responsible adult and say sure, go ahead,” Darren says. He swings his car keys around his pointer finger once before grasping them against his palm. “Be back in a few, then we can celebrate the fact that we’ll definitely be able to pay rent next month!” 

Chris breathes a sigh of relief when Darren heads back out the door to his car. It’s just… so unfair for Darren to come home from work with the top button of his shirt undone and his hair wildly curly from Darren driving home with the window down. Unlike Chris, Darren’s job at a music studio has a parking lot where he can park for free. Chris has tried _really_ hard not to be anything more superficially attracted to Darren, but it’s not an easy job. Darren is just so damn nice and charming and… so, _so_ good looking. 

He distracts himself by starting the oven and calling his mom to let her know about the job. Of course the phone gets passed around to his dad and then to Hannah, which is why he’s still on the phone when Darren returns, brown paper bag in hand. 

“Okay, sweetie. Bubba has to go before the pizza burns,” Chris says to Hannah, holding up a finger at Darren, signalling he needs another minute. “Yes, I miss you too. I’ll come visit you as soon as I can, okay? Love you.” 

Darren waits until Chris has pocketed his phone to pull a bottle out of the paper bag. “I got us some rum! I figured, you like Diet Coke so much, you might like a little rum to go with it.” 

Chris eyes the bottle curiously. His alcohol knowledge is basically nonexistent, but Darren has been twenty-one for about six months and has been drinking for longer, so Chris assumes he knows what mixes well together. “I’m game, but let me get some pizza in me, first,” he says. He at least knows that he definitely shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach, though he only plans on trying a little bit. 

*

A little bit turns into a couple glasses, each one with a bit more rum than the last. Apparently, Chris really enjoys rum and coke. 

“We really need to find a couch,” Darren says, placing his paper plate on the coffee table and wiping his fingers on a napkin before reaching for his guitar. They still have no seating in their living room, so they’re both sitting on the floor. 

Chris nods and his head swims. He’s not… _drunk_ , but he’s definitely feeling tipsy from the alcohol. When he tries to toss his pizza crust onto his plate and misses, he laughs at himself. Okay, maybe he’s a little drunk. “A couch would provide far superior comfort than this floor,” Chris says in agreement. His ass hurts. 

“Maybe tomorrow, neither of us are in any shape to go couch shopping right now,” Darren says. He strums a few notes on his guitar and takes another sip from his glass. “And you’re far too eloquent still for your first time having rum, how is that possible?” 

Giving his temple a tap with his finger, Chris smiles and scoots a little closer to Darren. “Magic. Are you going to play something for me?” He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or how the guitar seems to make Darren even _more_ attractive, but Chris’s stomach fills with butterflies when Darren shoots him a grin. 

“I’ll never turn down an audience -- even a drunk audience of one,” Darren says with a wink. “Any requests?” 

“Anything you sing is hot,” Chris says and he sits up straight as soon as he realizes what he just said. “I mean -- good! Anything… is good. You’re good at anything,” he says, then covers his eyes with his palm. His cheeks are on _fire_. “Oh, god. I’m… apparently I should _not_ be talking right now.” 

For Darren’s credit, he doesn’t laugh -- at least, not very loudly. “It’s okay, I’m flattered! It’s nice to know that I don’t suck at something I want to make a career out of,” Darren says lightly, nudging Chris’s knee with his toes. “Hey, it’s fine. Really.” 

Chris moans and looks up at the ceiling, unable to look Darren’s way right now. “It’s just… we’ve only known each other for maybe a month or so, and only been living together for a couple weeks, and we’re kinda stuck here until our lease is up, and the last thing you need is the creepy gay kid drunk hitting on you,” he says in a rush. “Forget I said anything… pretend the last ten minutes have just been spent in silence.” 

“Chris, seriously… it’s okay,” Darren says calmly, his toes touching Chris’s knee again. “We all say crazy stuff when we’re drunk. Why don’t I get you a glass of water and you can head to bed? You’ll probably want to take an aspirin or something if you have it. Hangovers fucking suck, man.” 

“Yeah,” Chris says with a nod. Closing himself up in his room, away from Darren, sounds like a great plan right now. That way he can’t say anything else embarrassing. It’s too early to go to bed quite yet, but he’s sure the alcohol in his system will help with that. “I’m just gonna -- “ he says, pointing toward the hallway before he stands up, swaying a bit on his feet. “Whoa.” 

Darren jumps up and grabs Chris’s arm to steady him. “Slowly, that’s it. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to give you that third glass, shit,” Darren says with a wince. “Sorry about that.” 

Chris shakes his head and, really -- he doesn’t feel _too_ bad, just a little unsteady. “It’s fine, I’m fine -- except for a case of loose lips, apparently,” he says. He rolls his eyes at himself and stops in front of the bathroom. “I should probably…” he trails off, nodding in the direction of the toilet. 

“Oh, yeah… of course,” Darren says, stepping away from Chris. “I’ll just put a glass of water on your nightstand, okay? Have a good night.” 

“You too, and thank you,” Chris says, the painful feeling of embarrassment starting to ease. Though Darren being so damn nice about it all isn’t helping anything. Maybe they’ll both forget any of it happened in the morning. 

*

Chris wakes up feeling like he has a wool sock in his mouth. He drank the entire glass of water Darren set out for him along with a couple ibuprofen -- other than the dry mouth, he seems to have escaped the perils of a hangover. 

Except as soon as he sits up and hears Darren in the kitchen, it all comes flooding back. Oh _no_. He’s never drinking again, if stupid shit like that comes out of his mouth when he’s on the drunk side of tipsy. Why can’t Darren have somewhere to be so that Chris has a few more hours to wallow in his embarrassment before he has to face him? 

“Fuck,” Chris mutters to himself, scrubbing his hands over his face. Okay, he can do this. He can be an adult and face Darren. As long as he acts like nothing out of the ordinary happened, it’ll be fine. 

“I made breakfast!” Darren says brightly just as Chris steps out of his bedroom. “Well, we’re out of eggs now because I fucked the first couple up, but these seem to be edible!” 

Chris eyes Darren warily and looks at the plates that Darren is dishing eggs onto. The toaster pops and he gives Darren a curious look. “Darren, you didn’t have to do all this.” 

Darren shrugs and pulls a carton of orange juice out of the refrigerator. “I woke up kinda feeling like an asshole about last night, so I figured I’d try to do something nice to make up for it.” 

After opting to just stand and eat, Chris shuffles over to the edge of the counter and takes a cup of juice from Darren. “Thanks, but there’s absolutely nothing to make up for,” he says, shaking his head before taking a bite of the eggs. “Hey, these are pretty good.” 

Darren’s chest puffs out a bit and he takes a bite himself before nodding. “Damn right they are!” 

They’re both quiet while they stand there and eat their breakfast. Chris is already planning what he can do to avoid the apartment for the day, maybe he’ll go out and look for a couch by himself. They _really_ need somewhere to sit. “Look, Darren -- “ he starts, eyes dropping to his plate. 

“Chris -- “ Darren says at the same time before chuckling. “Can I go first?” 

Chris looks back up at Darren and shrugs, giving Darren a _go ahead_ gesture. He has a feeling this is about to be really painful or embarrassing, or both. 

“Look, you were right. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and that was a pretty fucking crazy idea in itself -- moving down here with a stranger,” Darren says with a slight smile. “And maybe this will fuck everything up, but I hope not! Then one of us would have to find a new place to live, and the other would have to find a new roommate, and it would just be a disaster --”

“Darren!” Chris exclaims, holding up his hand. “You’re rambling. Are you really… trying to kick me out? Or kick yourself out? Because I think -- “

“I’m trying to ask you out,” Darren says, cutting Chris off with a slightly exasperated huff. “I… I told you that you were pretty cute. I’ve thought so since we first met on move-in day.” He bounces up on his toes and gives Chris a bright smile. “So?”

“Oh,” Chris says dumbly. He’s stunned -- that was the _last_ thing he ever expected Darren to say. “I, uh --” His stomach clenches with nerves and excitement. He’s (obviously) _never_ been asked out before. Darren’s right -- this could really fuck up their living situation, but… what if it doesn’t? What if it turns into an amazing relationship?

Darren’s face falls. “I mean, it was just a thought.”

Chris steps forward and bravely reaches out to brush his fingers against the top of Darren’s hand. So far, Darren has initiated any physical contact between them. “It was a good thought, I think… and if do actually ask me out out a date,” Chris says, feeling his cheeks darken. “Well, then I might just say yes.” 

“Oh yeah?” Darren asks, turning his hand over to intertwine Chris’s fingers with his own. “So, Chris Colfer… would you do me the honor of going out to dinner with me tonight?” 

Choosing to go with his gut feeling, Chris nods happily and squeezes Darren’s hand. “Yes. I would love to.” 

~~AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL *THROWS CONFETTII* ~~


End file.
